


Side Effects

by fictionallemons



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, Love Confessions, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Pining, Restraints, Smut, Truth Serum, but it's kind of sex pollenish truth serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 07:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: When Benji is kidnapped, tied up, and exposed to a serum that has him craving release, just how far will Ethan go to help his friend?





	Side Effects

**Author's Note:**

> Please note, there is dub con in this fic as Benji is under the influence of a drug. However, he's not doing anything he wouldn't do sober.

Side Effects

Benji comes to slowly, through a veil of disorientation. Is he dreaming? Is he awake? His mouth is the Sahara. As his brain comes back online, he realizes he's restrained. His hands are pulled behind him, his legs splayed out, held to the legs of the straight-backed chair he's sitting on. He tests his bonds experimentally and he hears the clink of metal on metal. He belatedly realizes he's got something around his neck, too. It's thin, but hard. He freezes. He doesn't want to accidentally make his bonds tighter by squirming around.

It takes all of his willpower not to hyperventilate at the thought of something around his neck, possibly able to constrict his airflow. Months have passed since Kashmir. He's physically recovered and therapy has helped him recover mentally, as much as he was able. This isn't like Kashmir, he tells himself. For one, this isn't Lane. They had been tracking a chemical weapons deal and he'd gotten separated from Ethan. The last thing he remembers is trying to make radio contact on a street corner in Kiev.

He wonders how whoever nabbed him got the drop, and that's when he realizes something else. He feels…weird. Drugged. As he takes stock of his body, he feels a pinch on the side of his neck. He'd probably been stuck by something fast-acting. He sighs. He doesn't know who took him or what their purpose is, but he knows he's in trouble. It always puts Ethan in a really bad mood when he gets himself abducted. 

The thought of Ethan calms Benji. Ethan will find him and put this right. He relaxes. His mental process doesn't seem to be affected by the drug, but his body feels…strange. Sensitive. He's not in pain, but he feels every inch of the smooth metal restraints against his skin. He feels the fabric of his t-shirt where is tightens across his chest. Across his nipples. He can almost feel the breeze coming through the single faraway window in the seemingly abandoned warehouse that it looks like he's been deposited into.

He wonders how long he's going to be sitting here. Helpless. Feeling prickly with tactile sensations and fidgety even though he can't move. He can't hear any sounds in the warehouse. It's like he was grabbed, drugged, locked up, and then forgotten. Better than being interrogated, he decides. Suddenly, the silence is broken by a crash. The lone window shatters into a million shards of glass that rain down on the cement floor below. Benji's encouraged by this, since the bad guys would probably just come in through a door. His suspicions are confirmed when a figure swings through the now-open window in a graceful arc, landing in a crouch on the floor of the warehouse.

Ethan's got a gun drawn and swings it around him in a thorough 360 degree examination of his surroundings. When he's satisfied that there's no one else here, he jogs up to Benji, holstering his gun, brushing some warehouse dirt off his black cargo pants.

"Benji, are you hurt?" Ethan's voice is hard. It always feels a little bit to Benji like Ethan's mad at him when he gets himself in these situations, but this time it wasn't Benji's fault.

"I don't think so," he says. "Just restrained."

"I can see that." Ethan crouches next to Benji to take stock of his bindings. Benji can't help the blossom of warmth and joy that spreads in his chest at Ethan's proximity.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," Benji says. "But then, you always are." Ethan stills at Benji's words. Benji frowns. He hadn't meant to say that. He'd been thinking it, how nice it always is to see Ethan, whether or not it's because Ethan is coming to his rescue. But he hadn't meant to actually say it out loud.

"Shit." 

"What?"

"I think—they drugged me. I don't remember how I got here, but I feel strange, and now I'm beginning to think that it's affecting me in other ways."

Ethan rocks back on his heels. "Other ways?"

Benji swallows. He's distracted by Ethan's thighs. "Thighs?"

"What?"

"I mean—serum. Truth serum."

"Seriously?"

"I have all the symptoms. Decreased inhibitions. Heightened sensations. No verbal filter."

Ethan raises his eyebrows at that last one. "Yes, yes, I know I talk a lot as a rule anyway, but this is different."

"All right, we'll get you checked out as soon as we get out of here. Maybe they administered it to you and were planning to interrogate you. But I got here first."

"I knew you'd find me," Benji says. He knows on some level that this situation could be bad for him, but he doesn't seem to care. He has a compulsion to say what's on his mind, and he can't stop it.

"That bad news is, I don't have anything to get you out of these." Ethan rises, gestures to the restraints. "They're all connected on a loop to the one around your neck. It's designed so if I pull one, that one gets tighter, so I can't use leverage. I'll have to find a blow torch."

"Don't leave me alone." Benji would have blushed at the admission, but right now he doesn't care. He doesn't want Ethan to leave him.

Ethan's gaze bores into him. "All right," he said slowly. "I'll call for help." Instead of activating his comm, Ethan pulls out a phone, makes a call. "I found him. He's fine. I think." Ethan turns away and lowers his voice so Benji can't hear him give the rest of the instructions to the third member of their mission team, Agent North. Ethan ends the call and turns back to Benji. "She's thirty minutes out. I can't risk moving you. You're going to have to sit tight, okay?"

Benji begins to nod, but feels the weight around his neck more than ever. "Yes. I'll be okay as long as you're here." He'd only mean to say the first part.

Ethan smiles a little grimly. "It's probably better if you don't talk."

Benji frowns. "Why not? I like talking. It's soothing."

"Under the circumstances, you'll be better off keeping your mouth shut."

Benji closes his mouth as if Ethan had ordered him to. But if he's not talking, then he's _feeling_ , and that's harder to bear. Ethan stays in his line of sight, but starts exploring the warehouse, presumably looking for some handy metal-restraint-system-breaking-tool. Ethan bends over to shuffle through the contents a wooden crate. Benji's entire body tightens at the way Ethan's ass is suddenly on display. On a normal day, Ethan's ass is sinfully plush and mouthwateringly round. Today, on a day when Benji can't lie to himself any more that he can lie to Ethan, Benji's reaction to that perfect ass is visceral. He lets out a yelp when he realizes he's getting hard, his brain runs a series of suggestive images through his head of what it would be like to come up behind Ethan, pull down his trousers to expose that beautiful backside, to cup it with his hands, knead it, spread the cheeks apart and—

"What's wrong?" Ethan has responded to Benji's pathetic whimpering noise, abandoning his search to come right up to him. Benji shakes his head. He really, really shouldn't say anything right now. But he needs to answer, has a compulsion to get the things in his head out.

Ethan looks worried. "Stop struggling." Benji hadn't even realized he's been rattling around, tugging on the metal chains keeping him in place. Suddenly, he becomes very aware that's he's so vulnerable. His legs are pulled wide apart, his pelvis the only part of him he can actually move. He wants to thrust into the air, as useless as that would be. By marshaling all of his self control he manages not to rut forward, sparing himself that humiliation. 

They way his hands are trussed behind his back forces his chest to thrust forward. He's in a position of utter openness, utter vulnerability. The fact that he's in that position with Ethan only inches away…his traitorous mind can't help thinking of ways Ethan could take advantage of the situation, were he so inclined. If the HR department could peek inside his head right now, they would resign in disgust. As it is, Benji fears his and Ethan's friendship might never recover if some of the wants—no, the _needs_ —that are making Benji shake came out into the open. 

Benji draws a breath. "I—I—" he snaps his mouth shut. Ethan draws closer, concern knit over his features.

"Hang on, Benji. North will here and we'll get you out of there. We'll flush that toxin out of your system and get you back to normal. I promise." He raises his hand and Benji knows what he's going to do with it. He's going to grip Benji's shoulder in a sign of solidarity, in a transfer of strength. Usually, Benji relishes that point of contact. Today, he worries he'll explode.

"No! Don't touch me!" Benji's voice is sharp and loud in the quiet of the warehouse. Ethan freezes, lowers his hand. Something crosses his face, unreadable but somehow unbearable. "I'm sorry, Ethan, I'm so sorry. I can't—I feel—" Benji's nearly sobbing now.

"It's okay." Ethan checks his watch. "Fifteen minutes. You can make it."

Fifteen minutes in this chair, unable to move, unable to relieve the intense pressure building inside him, unable to even remove the pressure of his lascivious thoughts by getting them out of his brain. Benji groans. This is worse than interrogation. He shifts side to side, but the sensation of his clothes scraping against his erection is too much. He shuts his eyes, tries to channel some meditation techniques. Instead of calming mantras, he only sees Ethan, only remembers every forbidden fantasy he's ever had about his friend, secreted away in the darkest, most hidden recesses of his mind.

Ethan makes a sound. It sounds like a sharp intake of breath. Benji's eyes fly open. Ethan is staring at the apex of the V that his legs are making. Benji can't look down without pulling at his neck restraint, but he suspects the raging hard on he's been suffering through the last few minutes is visible through the thin material of his light colored trousers. Brilliant. Maybe Ethan will just chalk it up to the drug and not mention it, like the gentleman he usually was.

"Is there something I can do?" Ethan asks so quietly that Benji's not sure he's heard him.

Benji lets out a strangled noise. Ethan can't be implying what it sounds like he's implying, can he? Ethan tears his gaze away from Benji's crotch and the look in his eyes—it almost seems like _he's_ the one in distress. The one who needs release so badly he'd give up pizza and video games for a year just to come, one time, right now.

"Ethan," Benji says. "I know I said I wanted you to stay, but maybe that's not a good idea."

"I'm not leaving you, Benji." Trust Ethan to let his loyalty and protectiveness rule the day.

"Don't you see you're making it worse?" Benji yells.

"I—I'm sorry," Ethan says. "But I can't—you're all red, you look like you're burning up." Before Benji can stop him, Ethan's got his palm on Benji's cheek. Benji hadn't realized before how warm he'd gotten, but Ethan's skin feels cool against his fevered cheek. He sighs, and presses into Ethan's palm. It feels good to feel Ethan's skin, even that chaste touch. But he needs more. Before he can pull away, Benji turns just enough to capture Ethan's thumb between his teeth. He flicks the pad with his tongue, and Ethan does that breath-sucking-in thing again. And he doesn't pull his hand away.

Benji finds Ethan's eyes, they're hooded and dark. He's frowning intently, as if running a million calculations in his head at once. Benji can't care about any of that. He sucks Ethan's thumb further into his mouth, tasting salt and something mineral, probably gun oil. Someone groans and Benji realizes it's not him. He feels his eyes widen, and then Ethan does pull away. He's breathing heavily, even though he's just been standing next to Benji, unmoving. For a second, they just stare at each other, and then Ethan drops to his knees between Benji's legs. 

"What are you doing?" he manages to ask through the pounding of blood in his ears.

"You're suffering. I don't like to see you this way. Not when I can help." Ethan's words would sound matter-of-fact, clinical even, except that his pupils are nearly the same diameter of his irises and his voice is strained. "If you want me to."

The part of Benji's brain that hasn't been completely affected by his uncontrollable need realizes that even though Ethan's asking permission, he's not technically able to properly consent given the fact that some foreign substance is coursing through his veins. But the devil on his shoulder, drug induced or not, is certain that if he was completely free of impairments and Ethan was on his knees in front of him, he'd let Ethan do whatever he damn well liked. Since his cock is trying to bore a hole in his trousers at the moment, that's the part that wins out.

"I want you to," he says firmly.

"Stay still," Ethan orders and Benji does his best to comply as Ethan reaches out and carefully unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his trouser button, and slides the zipper down. Ethan keeps his motions calm, and since Benji can't see anything but the top of Ethan's head in his peripheral vision, he simply has to trust Ethan with this. He does. Of course he does.

Then Ethan's hands are extricating his erection from the folds of his boxers. Even that slight pressure feels insanely good, and nowhere near enough.

"Benji. God." Ethan's voice is rough. Almost…reverent. Benji's not sure what he's expecting. It's not like they have anything to use for lubrication, but even still, he bucks up when Ethan's mouth closes around the tip of his cock. The chain around his neck clicks minutely tighter. Ethan pulls off immediately. "I said stay still."

"I'm trying, Jesus." The sensation of tightness around his neck fades away as Ethan puts his mouth back on Benji. Benji concentrates on holding still while Ethan bobs up and down, taking more and more of Benji into his mouth each time. Benji would trade anything to be able to see what it looked like to see his cock disappear into Ethan Hunt's gorgeous mouth. He can only imagine the stretch of lips, the hollowing out of Ethan's cheeks. He can feel it, however, the slide of Ethan's tongue over his slit, against his shaft, wet and hot. He can hear it, Ethan's steadily mounting moans, as if he's _hungry_ for Benji's cock. As if he _wants_ it. As if he has dreamed about having it in his mouth, down his throat. Inside him. Filling him up.

Benji almost comes right then, but Ethan pauses to adjust his angle, and then he speeds up, taking Benji as far into his mouth as he can, tugging on Benji's balls with one hand, the other anchored to Benji's hip, as if he could keep Benji still through his own force of will. But he doesn't need to worry. Benji isn't moving anything, except his mouth. "Fucking hell, Ethan, yes, that's incredible, yes, like that, perfect. You gorgeous creature. I'm going to come—." He expects Ethan to pull off, but instead he buries his nose into Benji's pubic hair, taking him all the way to the root.

Benji explodes from the inside out with pleasure. The orgasm goes on forever, the most exquisite release he can ever recall experiencing. It's as if he's trying to fill Ethan up with his come, pumping load and after load down Ethan's lovely throat.

Ethan pulls off slowly. Benji's breathing hard, but he feels miles better than he did five minutes ago. Ethan takes his time setting Benji to rights, putting him back together again. "Feel better?" he asks, without looking up at Benji's face. His voice is gravelly, and a wave of possessive satisfaction crashes over Benji when he realizes Ethan's voice is wrecked because of him.

"Much. Better." Benji does, in fact, feel almost euphoric. He barely even feels the restraints anymore. He's melded with them, become one with them. They're one entity made for seeking pleasure, for finding release at Ethan's hand—or mouth. "Thank you," he adds, a bit belatedly.

Ethan stands a bit stiffly, turns his back on Benji before Benji can catch sight of his face. He pulls out his phone. "North is one minute out," he says, still with his back to Benji.

"Hey, Ethan, are you all right?" It seems that with the release, the worst effects of the drug have lessened, because Benji's head feels clearer, his body less sensitive.

"I'm fine." It's almost a growl.

"Will you just look at me? I'm not going to be weird about this later, if that's what you're worried about." He probably _should_ be embarrassed, or at least apologetic, but he feels that since Ethan offered, in the spirit of a friend helping out another friend, to give said friend a blow job so he didn't go crazy while waiting to be released from an elaborate kidnapping and drug-induced horniness, it was the kind of thing they'd be able to laugh about someday. Or something.

But Ethan doesn't turn around, or respond. He just strides off to the far side of the building, where Benji can now make out a door in the corrugated metal wall. There's a bang, and the door becomes a rectangle of sunlight, and then he hears voices as Ethan fills Agent North in on the situation, and North hands over the tools Ethan had requested.

With North's assistance—she's an extremely skilled agent though she's only been in the field a year—Ethan is able to break the chain and disentangle the various lengths of it so that first Benji's legs are free, then his hands. Last, and most carefully, he removes the length around Benji's neck, the one that has a loop attached to it through which the others had been passed. North's presence makes the closeness between Ethan and Benji less awkward than it might have been. Ethan is wholly focused on his task, while Benji struggles with how he's going to get things back to normal between them. When the last of the restraints finally fall away, Benji sighs in relief. He gets up slowly, making sure everything is in proper working order.

"How do you feel?" North asks.

"I could drink a swimming pool," Benji admits. "Otherwise, I think I'm fine."

"You need a complete physical," Ethan says crisply. "Including blood work. We need to know what they gave you, what the side effects might be."

Benji cringes a bit. He's fairly certain they both know what one of the side effects is. Still, now that he has the freedom to move again, the drugged feeling is lessening rapidly.

"Let's go, then," Benji says. Ethan is quiet as North fills them in on the status of the weapons deal they are supposed to be disrupting. They have time to get him seen by a doctor on the IMF's payroll before they have to be at the meet. Benji submits to the blood draw, the physical exam, the IV they hook him up to in order to rehydrate and flush the last of the toxins out of his system. 

The entire time he wonders why Ethan had even offered to give him a hand, as it were, if he's going to be so weird about it afterward. There has never been anything but friendship between them. But how could anyone work with Ethan and not fall a little bit in love with him? Benji has been resigned to the occasional inappropriate dream and furtive wank featuring fantasies involving his friend, but has never asked, nor expected, anything more from him. Ethan is—he's a god-damned _institution_. Bigger than the IMF. More handsome than a movie star. Nearly as indestructible as a super hero. 

And as off limits as one.

Ethan's earlier actions were those of a friend. Those of a hero. Going the extra mile is what Ethan is programmed to do. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't change anything. Benji knows it. So why doesn't Ethan know it, too?

He corners Ethan in the safe house twenty minutes before the meet. He's feeling back to his old self, but with a residual kind of refreshed feeling, probably because he'd had his first orgasm with another person in ages and it really helped to clean out the system.

"North's getting in position. We need to go now," Ethan says.

"Yeah, I know. I'm ready. I just wanted to say thank you, for before," Benji says. Ethan's face is blank. "And, you know, I appreciate it. I was going out of my mind." Maybe if Ethan feels he'd had no choice, he won't be so prickly.

"Benji—I don't really want to talk about it."

"Okay." Ethan starts to move past him, but Benji stops him with a hand to his shoulder. Having a couple of extra inches on Ethan comes in handy occasionally. "Why not? It's not a big deal. I was in a bad way, you helped me out."

"Benji." Ethan sounds as if he's trying to end the conversation, but Benji's not done.

"You shouldn't feel bad or anything," Benji says reasonably.

"You were under the influence of highly potent chemicals. Probably psychotropics. I shouldn't even be letting you go on this mission. There could be unforeseen effects."

"I feel bloody great, actually." Benji grins. 

Ethan frowns. "You should hydrate."

"I'm hydrated! The doctor pumped me so full of fluids I could float to China." Benji doesn't know what exactly he wants from Ethan, but this stonewalling isn't it. He crowds against him, not touching, but only inches away. "Just tell me we can forget about it and move on."

He watches as Ethan's face passed through a range of expressions. First angry, then a bit sad, then rueful. Ethan's shoulders drop slightly. "I can't do that."

"What?" Benji's not expecting that, so he can't come up with anything more eloquent.

"I can't forget it. I wish I could. I'm sorry."

"Ethan, you should not be apologizing. It was my fault. I got kidnapped. You had to save me. Again. Thanks for that, by the way."

"I can't forget it, because I shouldn't have done it. I knew you were…struggling."

"I was in absolute agony," Benji confirms. Again, if Ethan knows how much he helped, then he won't feel guilty. Right?

"You were under the influence. You couldn't consent."

"Ethan, we've been over this. I knew what I was asking for. It's fine. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Did you know what you were asking for? Really?" Ethan's eyes flash with something dark.

"I—" Benji thinks back. He'd needed relief. Ethan had offered to give it to him. Benji had seized the opportunity to be touched by Ethan. He should have been strong enough to say no, to not put Ethan in that position. "Shit. Shit. I'm sorry. See—I told you you weren't the one who needed to apologize. I'm sorry, Ethan."

Now Ethan looks confused. Benji feels terrible. Ethan had been helping a friend, not knowing that Benji has thought about him…sexually…from time to time over the years. That Benji has nursed a small-scale crush on him since the moment they met, so many years ago.

Suddenly Benji feels terribly guilty. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I hope you can forgive me. I'm the one who got kidnapped, I'm the one who wasn't strong enough to get through that without you. I'm the one who wanted to know—" he breaks off. Too much.

But Ethan's eyes widen. "Wanted to know what?"

Maybe if Benji makes a clean breast of the whole thing, Ethan will forgive him and they really can move on. "Wanted to know what it felt like to be with you. Like that." He lowers his gaze. "Please, please say you can forgive me. Please."

"You wanted—that? With me?" Ethan's voice is low, insistent.

Benji nods, miserable. All the care he's taken to keep his ridiculous crush to himself has come to this. He can't even look Ethan in the eye.

"Do you know why I offered to help you today?" Ethan says.

"Because you're the best friend a bloke could ask for?" Benji says. He's not above flattery when it comes to fixing this.

"Because seeing my best friend in torment, knowing what he needed, knowing I'd do anything, _anything_ to stop him from feeling like that—I couldn't _not_ help you, Benji. I've always known I would do anything for you. But it took me until today to fully realize why."

Benji's struggling to comprehend Ethan's words when he feels his chin being lifted up by Ethan's strong hand. They stare at each other for a minute. Benji can't help but notice that Ethan's pupils are blown out wide again, that his mouth looks ready to be kissed. "W-Why?" he whispers.

"Because I'm in love with you. And doing—what I did—I was so turned on, I could barely stop myself from touching myself while I—"

Benji knows he should be focused on the fact that Ethan's just told him he's in love with him, but for some reason he can't get over how charming it is that Ethan can't say something else. "While you sucked my cock?" Benji finishes for him.

"Yeah. That."

Benji finally gives in and kisses his best friend. When they come up for air, Benji says, "I'm in love with you, too. And if you can wait until after we capture a few chemical weapons dealers, I'll let you do it again. And maybe even return the favor."

"Maybe?" Ethan smiles into Benji's kiss.

"Definitely."

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I stole "You should hydrate" as well as some inspiration from _Knight and Day_. I love that scene so much.
> 
> This fic now has ART!!! by the incomparable nogoatshere aka Demigoat!! It's NSFW!! [View it here](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/nogoatshere/183799754235)
> 
> On tumblr [ @fictionallemons](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/fictionallemons)  
> Comments and kudos always appreciated!


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